


136.  Birthday weekend getaway

by alley_oops, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Sam Worthington and Ryan Kwanten [136]
Category: Actor RPF, Australian Actor RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), True Blood RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-03
Updated: 2008-11-03
Packaged: 2018-01-15 22:53:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1322254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alley_oops/pseuds/alley_oops, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica





	136.  Birthday weekend getaway

_**Sam Worthington surprises Ryan Kwanten with a birthday weekend getaway**_  
[New York; backdated to Friday, November 25, 2011]

"You really didn't have to go to all this trouble," Sam says, staring wide-eyed at the plate laden with breakfast sausages and fresh Belgian waffles with strawberries and whipped cream. "I could've just grabbed a pastry and coffee on my way in. But it looks delicious," he adds quickly. He wouldn't want Ryan to think he was unappreciative. "So, you have any plans for today?" he asks, moaning softly as he pops a bite of waffle, fruit and whipped cream into his mouth.

"Yeah, I need to do some cross-training," Ryan answers, but he's still stuck on Sam's last remark. "Pastry and coffee is no kind of breakfast," he admonishes. "You can't get through the morning on that. And these sausages are applewood-smoked pork, I found a local specialty market that trucks them in fresh from a farm in Ulster County, can you believe that?" He grins at his lover, excited about his find.

Sam grins back but he's not really sure why his lover's so excited. It's sausage. Really fucking good sausage he has to admit, taking a bite, but still sausage. "Think you can find time to pack?" he asks casually.

"Pack?" Ryan echoes, layering waffles, cream, and berries to build a mighty tower, and then cutting cake-size slices with an architect's precision. He grins at his creation, then glances back up at Sam. "Sorry, um. Pack for what?"

"Your birthday weekend away," Sam says, taking another bite of sausage. "Oh, wait. Did I forget to mention that?" he teases, eyes sparkling.

 _That_ captures Ryan's attention in a moment. "A... away?" His eyes brighten and he stares at his lover. "Are we going away?"

"Yup." Sam pops another piece of waffle and berry smothered with cream in his mouth. "Leaving tonight, coming back on Sunday. I'll be home by four to pick you up."

You'd think Ryan had just been handed the keys to Eden. He gapes at Sam for a moment longer. Then he's out of his chair and shoving Sam's back from the table so he can straddle his lover's thighs and kiss him again and again.

Sam laughs as he's kissed, thoroughly enjoying Ryan's reaction. "There's another surprise too, but I'm saving that one for tomorrow," he tells him.

" _More_ surprises?" God, Ryan loves it when Sam surprises him with things; it just makes him so damn happy to know that his lover took time out of his hectic schedule to plan something for him. "So... what should I pack? For sand, snow, rain?"

"We're not going that far," Sam tells him, trying not to give too much away. "So bring something nice to wear for dinner and some casual clothes you won't mind getting dirty and otherwise, just whatever you'd wear around here. Maybe your hiking boots."

"Okay." Ryan grins, and tries not to bounce _too_ much in Sam's lap. "Four, you said?"

Sam nods. "I arranged to get off work early." He grins back and kisses Ryan, sliding his hands over his lover's hips. "My bag's already in the bedroom. Watch out the window and I'll honk. You can bring both bags down and we'll get on our way."

Biting his bottom lip, Ryan attempts to contain himself. "Okay," he whispers. He kisses Sam one more time, then gets to his feet. "Sorry. Finish your breakfast," he says, sitting down in his own chair again with a glance at the clock.

"Well, it would be a shame to waste this sausage," Sam says with a smile, eyes sparkling as he pops another piece into his mouth.

* * *

 _Four o'clock_ , Sam said. Which means that Ryan is completely ready to go at 3:22 that afternoon. And... _bouncing_. "Shit," he mutters, pacing around the flat again. He worked out for more than two hours today and he's still got excess energy to burn, so damn excited that Sam is taking him away for his birthday. Growling at himself, he empties the dish drainer and then sits down at the kitchen table with his laptop and Sam's schedule for the next two months.

3:55 and Sam pulls up in front of their building. Honks the horn. Hoping Ryan's ready to come out and he doesn't have to try and park or get ticketed for stopping.

Buried deep in comparison-shopping for airline tickets from Perth to Sydney, Ryan takes a second to look out the window. But then his eyes damn near bug out. There's a fucking honest-to-god Porsche waiting in front of the building. It can only be Sam. Grinning, he grabs their bags and quickly locks up, then races down the stairs to meet his lover.

Sam pops the trunk and unlocks the passenger side door, grinning and waving at Ryan as he comes out of the building. "Nice ride, isn't it?" he says when his lover slips into the front seat, having to remind himself not to fucking kiss Ryan, not here.

"Fucking gorgeous," Ryan murmurs, running a hand reverently over the dashboard. "Is this why you've been coming home so late?" he teases, flashing Sam a grin. "Have I been replaced in your heart by a sports car?"

"It's a rental," Sam protests, but he's grinning. "I can't imagine having one of these in the city and just moving along at a fucking snail's pace."

"Nah, that'd be a crime." Ryan sits back and fastens his seatbelt, bouncing like a kid on Christmas morning. "So that means we're leaving the city?"

"I didn't make that clear?" Sam asks. He grins and hands Ryan a brochure. "This is where we're going. They're, uh, Citadel-friendly on certain weekends each year and this is one of them."

"Wow." Ryan flips through the glossy pages as Sam pulls into the flow of traffic. "This place is gorgeous." Luxury accommodations with Hudson River views, vaulted ceilings and sumptuous bathrooms... "Aww, sweetie." He looks at his lover. "Are you trying to seduce me?"

Sam laughs. "Is it working?"

God, that grin. Those mischievous dimples... Sam can get away with any-fucking-thing. "Yes," Ryan tells him, smiling.

"Good." Sam reaches across the seat and gives Ryan's knee a squeeze. "It'll probably take us two hours to get there. I arranged for dinner but if you're too hungry to wait we can always stop earlier," he says, intent on taking the quickest way out of the city.

"I'm good for now. The hard part is going to be not jumping you while you drive," Ryan says with a laugh.

"At least while we're still in the city," Sam says, waggling his eyebrows.

"Yeah? So when we get out on those open country roads you're going to let me blow you while you drive?" Ryan asks, damn near snickering at the thought. The Porsche is pretty damn awesome, but... not quite roomy enough for that.

"Depends. Are you actually that bendy?" Sam teases.

"Ohh, god, now he's challenging me," Ryan says with a sigh, rolling his eyes heavenward. "We'll both end up as grease spots on the pavement for sure, now."

Sam cracks up. "Apparently I haven't learned yet. Note to self: never challenge Ryan."

"Not unless you can deal with the consequences," Ryan agrees, leaning over to quickly lick Sam's throat before he sits back again like a good boy.

"Brat," Sam murmurs, a shiver going through him at the touch of Ryan's tongue. "I might end up having to park the car somewhere, fuck you over the hood."

"Yeah?" Ryan's hole clutches at nothing, a damn reflex in response to Sam even _talking_ about fucking him, apparently. "I've heard these things get pretty hot," he says, like his blood doesn't start racing in an instant. "Might be dangerous."

"Sounds like you want to find out," Sam observes, switching lanes and overtaking a couple of too fucking slow cars.

Ryan shifts in his seat, trying to find a more comfortable position for his legs. "Um." _Fuck_. Sam always wins at this game anyway. "Maybe?"

"Maybe?" Sam grins and puts his hand back on Ryan's leg, sliding it slowly up the inside of his lover's thigh.

Blowing out a breath, Ryan thumps his head back against the seat. And he wriggles just a bit to get Sam's hand a little closer. "Um. Well. It's dangerous? And it involves sex?" He bites his lip, trying like hell not to laugh.

"Which means you should say yes, sir, please, I want you to fuck me open over the hood of this car," Sam says casually, as though he was talking about the weather or where they're going, his fingers stroking higher and higher.

"It is a beautiful piece of machinery," Ryan breathes, staring at Sam's hand. "It'd be a shame not to..." And he really _can't_ blow Sam beneath the steering wheel; there's just not the space for it. "Yes, Sir, please," he whispers, eyeing his lover. "Please. Fuck me open over the hood of this car."

Sam nods. "We'll see where we can find when we get out in the open." There's got to be somewhere he can pull off. Get his hand on Ryan's mouth and just fucking nail him. But for now he contents himself with sliding his hand even higher, stroking over the growing bulge in Ryan's jeans.

 _Oh. God._ Who knows how long _this_ exercise in self-control is bound to last. Ryan tries to smother a groan, but then inspiration hits. "Hey," he says, looking over at his lover. "Since it's my birthday weekend then I can come whenever I want, right?"

Sam grins. "You think it works that way, do you?"

"I'm... hoping... it works that way." Ryan gives his lover a bright smile, and sure enough he does look hopeful.

"You can come three times this weekend whenever you want," Sam says. "The other times, I get to choose and you might not get to come at all."

"At-- at all?" Ryan echoes, abruptly sitting up straight in an attempt to move away from his lover's hand. "What, like, no more than three times _at all_?" Surely Sam wouldn't really be so cruel.

"Fuck, no," Sam answers, but god, that look on Ryan's face. He grips his crotch tighter, nails digging into denim. " _Some_ of the other times I might not let you come."

Ryan's sigh of relief turns into an outright moan. "Yes, Sir," he mutters, shifting again to push into Sam's hand, responding to the demand of his lover's grip.

"Of course, it would be my prerogative to decide you don't come all weekend," Sam teases, working Ryan roughly through his jeans.

"Yes, Sir," Ryan says again, but his words come out on a strangled whimper. "Please, Sir. Please, I need you to fuck me." If he comes now then it won't be as powerful the next time; and damn he wants that next time.

"Does that mean you want me to stop now?" Sam asks, checking the clock and the road ahead, fingers cruelly pinching the head of Ryan's cock. Another few minutes and they should be clear of the city.

Ryan whimpers louder, fisting his hands tight at his sides. "No," he gasps, bucking into Sam's touch. "No. Please, Sir..."

"Good boy. That's the right answer, but I am gonna stop," Sam says, removing his hand from Ryan's lap. "'Cause when I fuck you, I want you to make a big mess all over that fucking hood and then I'm gonna have you clean it up. With your tongue."

The sudden absence of Sam's touch -- god, it's an agony just as keen as the harshness of before. Ryan thumps his head against the seat and pouts a little, trying to catch his breath. _Fuck_.

"What's the pout for?" Sam says, glancing over. Thoroughly enjoying fucking with his boy. "You really wanted to come in your jeans that badly?"

"No." Ryan shoots Sam one quick sullen look, well aware he's being toyed with. "I always pout when you stop touching me." He pulls at the thighs of his jeans, trying to ease some of the pressure off his cock.

"You look uncomfortable," Sam says, taking their exit, thankful to be leaving the highway. "You should unzip your jeans."

Ryan knows much better than to think it's a mere suggestion. "Yes, Sir," he whispers, swallowing hard and glancing out the window at the cars they're passing. Then he unbuckles his belt and opens his jeans with a sigh, his cock rearing up from his shorts.

"Get rid of the shorts too," Sam orders with a quick glance over. "I want your cock out."

"Oh, god." Ryan licks his lips and then lifts his hips, shoving both jeans and boxers halfway down to his knees. He reaches for his prick automatically, but then forces himself to pull back. Carefully, deliberately, he splays his hands on his thighs.

"You look so fucking hot like that," Sam says, taking them deeper and deeper into the countryside, the traffic thinning out nicely.

"I look..." Ryan nails his lover with a raised eyebrow. "I look stupid, Sam." Like that's ever been any kind of deterrent for him. But still, dressed for winter weather from the waist up, jeans bunched around his knees, cock still so stubbornly damn hard...

"You want to bet?" Sam pulls his phone out of his back pocket and snaps a picture. "See?" He turns the screen towards Ryan but refuses to let him have phone. He's damned if Ryan gets to erase it. "You look hot. Just like you'll look even hotter bent over the hood of this car, my cock up your ass."

"That," Ryan says, raising a finger, "that will be hot." He grins at his lover. "Maybe we should do a whole series of, like, cheesecake photos. You know, all naked and stretched out over the Porsche."

"We can do that tomorrow," Sam says, " _after_ my other surprise." Very carefully eyeing every single sideroad and picnic spot they pass.

"I still can't believe there are more surprises," Ryan murmurs, shaking his head. It blows him away that Sam did all this for him. "How did you have the time to plan? I mean, I know your assistant didn't do it." He laughs.

Sam glances over and smiles, giving a quick shrug. "It was important so I found the time."

They're simple words. But they warm Ryan's heart like an elaborate token of affection. He lays his cheek on the headrest, and watches Sam with a goofy expression of adoration. "I love you."

"I love you too," Sam murmurs. "Ah. Here we go," he says a second later, spying a decent turn-off and pretty much no one around them.

Ryan sits up, staring out the windshield. It seems like a service road, parallel to the highway until it loops around into the dense woods. He grins, excitement charging through his blood when he looks everywhere around them but sees no sign of other people.

Stopping the car, Sam grins over at Ryan and gets out, his cock already rigid and aching, straining against the front of his jeans. He can hear the cars in the distance but right here, there's nothing, nothing but them and one incredibly hot Porsche.

His heart stopping for an instant at that grin, Ryan's a moment slow in following. He hitches his jeans back up around his waist and climbs out of the car, shutting the door gently behind him and then slowly circling around to meet Sam. Testing, he lays his hand against the car's hood and then jerks back at the heat radiating from the engine.

"Too hot?" Sam says, nudging Ryan against the grill anyway, confident his jeans will protect him.

"Um." Ryan drops his jeans and shorts again, shoving them down to his ankles. "May I... May I lay my jacket down, Sir?"

"You don't think it'll ruin the effect?" Sam asks, eyes sparkling.

Ryan frowns, a little worried now when he touches the hood. "But, I'm serious, I--" he looks over his shoulder and _fuck_ he knows that look in Sam's eyes. "Bastard," he mutters, grinning as he shrugs out of his jacket and spreads it over the hood.

"Yup and you love me anyway," Sam says, grinning proudly, his hand already on the back of Ryan's neck, tightening around his nape and pressing him down.

Oh god, that hand. It puts Ryan down so damn fast. He nearly melts, bending to lie flat against the hood and letting his jacket protect his hands and face.

Getting his own jeans open, Sam lines up, breath hitching hard at the black ink between Ryan's cheeks. The tattoo is completely healed by now and it looks fantastic, better than anything Sam had ever hoped for. "Look at you," he murmurs, head popping through the first tight ring of muscle as he pushes deeper, steadily, sinking himself into his lover. "Such a fucking slut for me."

Ryan whimpers, pushing back against his lover. "Love you," he gasps, feeling his body open up. "God, Sir. Fucking need your cock."

Tightening his grip on the back of Ryan's neck, Sam pushes all the way in, making sure Ryan has every last fraction of an inch. "There you go," he murmurs, smiling. "You've got me," rocking his hips against Ryan's ass.

Groaning, Ryan swims in his arousal, adjusting to having his lover so deep inside. Then he carefully reaches down and starts to work his shirt up, baring his chest to the heat of the Porsche's hood.

"Oh, fuck, that's so hot," Sam breathes, leaning forward and pressing Ryan even more fully into the hood as he pulls out and shoves in again, sinking himself into his lover's back with long steady strokes. "Get it up there, fucking nipple rings right against the metal..."

"Fuck, yes." Ryan hisses as the engine's heat sears him. "Oh, god. Sir," he whispers, clamping down around Sam's cock and pushing back, trying to get him to move faster.

"Nope." Sam uses his hand and his hips to pin Ryan hard against the hood. "Tell me what you want, boy. I want words."

Ryan whimpers, pain flashing through him. "Sir," he gasps, "please." But it takes him a long moment to gather his brain beyond that. He fists his hands in his jacket, pressing his cheek to the leather to protect his face. "Please, fuck your boy harder!"

"Harder?" Sam grins and thrusts, slowly building speed, but he knows damn well it's not anywhere close to what Ryan wants. No matter how fucking good it feels. "Like this?"

Moaning softly, Ryan tries to shove back against his lover. But he's too thoroughly pinned. "Please," he whispers. working his muscles around Sam's cock on each thrust. "Oh god, you feel so good inside me. Please."

"Please what?" Sam demands, leaning in and nipping sharply at Ryan's earlobe. "Fuck you even harder? Fuck you wide open?" he growls softly, doing just that, hips snapping violently as he rams his cock into Ryan's hole again and again.

Ryan cries out, the sound loud in the stillness of the woods. "Sir!" _Fuck_ yes. His nipple rings are hot to the touch now, conducting the heat of the car straight into his flesh. "God fuck me Sir, yes!"

And that's all Sam needs. He fucks Ryan even harder, hammering into him, fucking his hole open so hard his whole body aches with it. Shifting so he shoves Ryan's cock against the grill with every thrust.

"Holy fuck holy _fuck!_ " Fuck fuck fuck that's _hot_ damn it, and tears spring into Ryan's eyes with every slam of his cock into the car. He moans, rubbing back against his lover. "Oh fuck please," he gasps, and now there's a desperate edge to his begging that wasn't there before. "Please, Sir! Let me come for you!"

"Do it," Sam orders. "Fucking paint the whole hood with it," he growls, slamming into Ryan so hard he lifts him right up onto his toes, grinding him against the front of the car.

Ryan whines, strung taut between pain and pleasure. He lets the balance tip and he howls, bucking between Sam and the Porsche and spraying hot onto the polished surface.

Fuck yes. Sam drives in another half-dozen times, teeth gritted at the clench of Ryan's body, then shouts out his pleasure, emptying himself into his boy's hole with thick heavy spurts.

Still gasping - still _whimpering_ , god - Ryan rocks back against his lover, his muscles milking Sam for every damn drop. "Sir," he whispers, and has to lick dry lips. "God." He's so grateful for the car now, hot as it is -- he's not sure his legs would support him at the moment.

"Yeah, I know," Sam nods, easing his grip on the back of Ryan's neck and kissing the side of his throat. "Remember what I said about cleaning up your mess?"

Ryan moans. Actually, he'd forgotten about that bit. He splays his hands on the hood and shakily pushes himself upright. Then he drops to his knees in the grass and begins to lick up the warm metallic flavour of his own come.

Christ. Sam had been going to let Ryan off but now, watching him do it, his cock throbbing despite his release, Sam's glad his boy took him at his word. Sometimes he thinks he's getting too soft for his own good.

His muscles melting after being flooded with so much tension, Ryan completes the task in a daze. He licks slowly, carefully, grateful somewhere in the back of his mind for the certainty that the car was freshly washed before Sam rented it. Then he sits back on his heels and rubs his cheek against his lover's thigh.

"Good boy," Sam says, trailing his fingers through Ryan's hair, simply enjoying the moment for a few seconds before he helps Ryan to his feet and straightens his clothes for him. "We'd better get going. They're expecting us for dinner," he says, kissing his lover softly on the mouth.

"Okay." But Ryan rests his head on Sam's shoulder and hugs him a long moment more before he's ready to let go.

"You should try and have a nap," Sam says when they finally part, getting back in the car, Ryan still looking dazed. "You can always see the scenery coming back," he tells him, fishing a light blanket from the backseat where he's got a picnic basket as well. For tomorrow.

"Okay." Ryan's never more agreeable than when he's thoroughly sex-hazed. He smiles at his lover, then puts his seat back and snuggles up for the drive.


End file.
